


Moth to a Flame

by DaniJayNel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, F/F, Face Sitting, Fingering, Historia has a penis, Historia is a famous singer, Media Scandal, Missionary, Nanaba is her manager, blowjob, intercourse, intersex Historia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26270794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: A scandal rocks Historia's entire career after her manager and fiance cheats on her with an actress. She goes on a two week party bender, but those two weeks are enough to nearly destroy the career she has spent the last few years building. Historia gets a new manager, Mike, who ends up helping her back on her feet, but her former glory is lost. A while later, an accident forces Mike to make the difficult decision to quit, and he offers the services of his close friend, Nanaba. Historia is immediately taken by her. They work together perfectly, but Historia's feelings have long since gone past business or friendship. Could they ever make it work? Would it endanger her career again? Or could this be something new, something real?
Relationships: Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Nanaba
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	Moth to a Flame

**Author's Note:**

> Written per specific request. Thank you so much for the continued support! I hope whoever reads this enjoys

The diner was right on the outskirts of Sina City, which made it perfect for their regular get-togethers whenever their full schedules allowed for it. As of lately, Historia hadn’t really been making time to see her friends. She would blame it on her schedule, but... well... her busy instagram posts outed her as being at a party almost every night, so they were all well aware she had the time. 

Still, this time they blew the group chat up and Historia felt just shit and worthless enough to finally give in and meet them at Papa’s Diner. She made sure to wear her usual cap and gigantic glasses to hide her face. It would take just one fan in the diner and the entire population of Sina paparazzi would be there to interrupt their otherwise peaceful morning. Not to mention the headlines...

Historia plopped down on the cracked leather seat and winced as the motion sent a wave of pain through her skull. She was glad for the glasses, not only because they had successfully hidden her, but also because they were hiding the dark bruises beneath her eyes. It was from lack of sleep and too much alcohol. This hangover was really bad.

“Nice to finally see you again,” Annie was the first to tell her, blue eyes sharp and narrowed.

Historia winced again. “Yeah, morning.”

She wasn’t looking at them anymore, but someone let out a sigh. Probably Mikasa. Someone slurped on a milkshake—definitely Sasha.

“We’re worried about you,” Mikasa spoke up. Historia lifted her face to meet her gaze. She was again grateful that her eyes were hidden.

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, blonde brows furrowing. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not fine, sweety,” Sasha cut in. “You’ve been getting shitfaced every single evening in the past two weeks. You’ve accumulated more humiliating paparazzi shots in two weeks than many singers in their entire career.”

Historia grew uncomfortable and annoyed. “That’s my problem.”

“We care, idiot,” Annie shot. “This makes us look bad too. You’re tainting your reputation.”

Historia let out a huff of annoyance. She was well aware that she was being a petulant brat. Her friends were just trying to help her. 

They were all childhood friends, growing up in the same school. In high school, they’d created a band and when the internet became popular, they started a Youtube channel. It blew up rather quickly, and then Historia was offered a label deal—but on her own—and her friends encouraged her to go for it. She was insanely happy to find they’d made it themselves as an indie rock band. Their fanbase wasn’t quite as large as Historia’s, since they made queer music for queer people, they were still  _ thriving _ . As Historia knew well, lesbians could be  _ thirsty. _

Historia flagged down the waitress and ordered some black coffee, no sugar. Her stomach was too empty for food. If she was being honest, she was exhausted. From everything. From the tour she had just finished, from the signings she had done, the several interviews and then all of the meaningless sex and drunken parties. 

Historia took her glasses off to rub at her sore eyes. “I know I’m running into the ground,” she admitted. “I just... I don’t know how else to cope.”

“Therapy,” Annie suggested, deadpan. “Like actual therapy.”

Historia snorted. “Me, Historia Reiss? Therapy?”

“We’ve all been going to therapy,” Sasha chirped happily. “It’s really been helping, especially with all the fame and stuff.”

“Historia,” Mikasa said, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m really worried about you. What happened? Where is—”

“Don’t say her name,” Historia snarled. Mikasa’s hand withdrew in her surprise. Her friends blinked at her, shocked she would use such a tone. She sighed. “I guess I should finally tell you.”

“Please,” Mikasa pleaded. “We’ve only had the crazy articles and youtube videos to give us some clue as to what happened to make you do all this.”

The waitress returned with her coffee, giving Historia a little moment to herself so that she could collect her thoughts, steel her nerve. “She cheated,” she finally announced. Her friends stared at her, shocked. “I found her fucking an actress while I was on tour. They’ve been doing this for months now and I was just too stupid to see it.” She took a sip of her scorching coffee, relished the way it burned her lips and tongue. 

“Historia...”

She set her mug down. “2 years down the drain,” she mused. “Like they were nothing.”

She watched them all exchange glances, and she could already tell what they were thinking.

“Historia,” Sasha started gently. “I know you really loved—her, but... She’s double your age, and you got into a relationship when you were still so young. Hell, we’re all still _ so young _ . It’s... frankly, it’s always been creepy.”

“I’m 21, Sasha.”

Sasha just nodded. “Yeah, and a 42 year old seduced a 19 year old. It’s creepy. She was your manager.  _ Creepy. _ ”

Historia flushed. They were right. These last two weeks had been painful, but there had also been this sense of strange relief. The relief had pushed on the guilt and shame. She should never have accepted her manager’s advances. She should have said no, then immediately fired her and hired someone else. But Historia had been afraid, that by saying no, her name would be smeared and her career stamped out before it even started. She was also tempted, because her manager had been achingly beautiful and powerful, and Historia had been like a moth to a flame. 

It was all for nothing, now. She was alone. Her career was doing better than ever—or had been up until the end of her tour. Where did she go from here? How did she go about picking up the pieces of her heart, her self respect?

Her friends took pity on her, of course, and all crowded onto her side of the table for tight hugs and cheek kisses. She acted annoyed, but then she broke apart and cried into the crook of Sasha’s neck. When the tears dried, she ordered food and they changed the topic. The past two weeks had almost made Historia forget how much she loved her friends. They helped to soothe her aching heart, and when she put her glasses back on and left Papa’s Diner, she felt like she could do this.

Of course, the paparazzi were like rabid animals. Someone had managed to follow her, and later that day there were headlines on every major gossip channel and site.

_ Historia Reiss spotted with members of indie rock band, Paper Titans. Intervention, anyone? _

* * *

It was almost awe inspiring the impact her two week party bender had made on her career. Sure, there were many photos and videos taken of her in  _ very _ compromising positions, as well as one blurry sex tape. She was the biggest scandal in the Sina celebrity scene for a long time, and the press as well as the fans were eating it up. Historia received an overwhelmingly large amount of hate from a huge portion of her fans. Young people who were disappointed in her, older people who were disgusted. No one knew her reason for the two weeks of parties, but they’d seen all the footage of her kissing a new woman every night—sometimes several woman in one night. Many headlines called her a cheater, and her fucking ex even tried to take advantage of it, sitting down with one reporter to cry about how hurt she was to see the news on a magazine cover.

Without a manager, Historia wasn’t really certain what to do. She had no choice but to contact one of her close friends. 

An entire month had passed since her breakfast at Papa’s Diner, and it was almost as if her career had ended. She was set to have a meeting with her label, and two agencies had straight up cancelled their contracts with her to feature her music in their new blockbuster movies. The news of this made the media swarm in delight at the drama—the scandal. 

_ Historia Reiss, fondly known as the Singing Angel, has successfully burnt her wings. _

_ Singing Angel no longer singing for big blockbuster set to come out this summer, Dancing Whims. _

_ Has Historia Reiss successfully cut her own wings off? _

_ Ex-manager and ex-fiance of internationally famous Historia Reiss reveals her side of this heartbeaking story in this exclusive interview with Brandon Jordan. _

_ Was the Signing Angel persona fake all along? A look into Historia Reiss and her career, from wide-eyed doe to now predatory lion. _

_ Historia Reiss, from Singing Angel to Singed Angel. _

Historia closed her laptop, tired of scrolling through the hundreds of inflammatory articles about her. She pressed her phone to her ear and listened to the line ring a handful of times before it was finally picked up.

“Ral,” the woman answered. 

Historia let out a breath. “Petra.”

“Historia?” There was the sound of hurried movement, then the background of chatter and noise disappeared following the click of a door closing. “I was wondering if you would contact me.”

Historia rubbed at her sore temple. “I need your help, Petra. I think... I think I really fucked up.”

Petra hummed. “Yeah, you did make some poor decisions. This will always follow you, whatever you do from here on out. That’s just how this works, unfortunately.”

“Thanks. Needed to hear that,” she said sarcastically.

“I’m not here to tend to your bruised ego, Historia. You’re an adult now and you made adult decisions when you threw all those parties. You know the landscape of things.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. Now, what do you need me to do?”

Historia bit her lip and blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. “I need a manager,” she supplied weakly. “I... need to know how to deal with this.”

Petra went silent for a moment, then she let out a sigh. “Alright,” she started. “Can you come over to my office today? We can discuss a short-term contract where I will take over as interim manager until you can find a new one. We need to release a statement as to your behaviour, too. See if we can’t turn this around in your favour. Just, don’t go to any parties, okay?”

Historia wanted to cry, but she didn’t. “Thank you, Petra. I won’t, I promise. I’ll be there for lunch.”

After the call, Historia opened her laptop again. She itched to make a new tweet, to say _ something _ to her fans to explain her terrible behaviour. But in Sina, you weren’t allowed to make mistakes. Historia had seen entire careers go down in flames over one tiny slip up. One affair, one curse word, one fight in public, one misconception. It was frightening. It was strange that she still had a career at all. 

When she met up with Petra, they drafted an announcement and sent it over to the press. It explained, not in detail, the situation. The headlines changed very quickly after that, painting Historia as the sad, abused singer, taken advantage of by her manager. 

They were not entirely wrong. Historia had an image—she was small, attractive and many thought of her as pure. She still saw comments on the internet all the time where people expressed their shock to see her in any sort of sexual situation—like how dare she not be a virgin to maintain their purest fantasy of her. Many people felt betrayed by her in these instances, which was so bizarre to her. 

Historia just wanted to sing. Singing was her passion, her talent. The fame and money and name, all those just came afterwards. She never did this for all of that—but for the love of making music. 

She had been lucky when someone requested her for their major soundtrack. She had been brand new, hardly even done with her first album. She made a single for that movie, which turned out to be immensely popular, and suddenly her twitter and instagram were blowing up. She was getting more requests to provide tracks for big name movies, and her stardom hit.

And then she fucked it all up in two weeks. So many years of hard work, down the drain.

* * *

With Petra’s help and the support of her friends, Historia managed to keep herself afloat. She lost a lot of deals, and big labels and agencies seemed hesitant to sign her on for anything, as if she would turn and snap again. It was a little insulting, how quickly her reputation had been soured by a few bad decisions. But Historia accepted the fallout. This was her mistake, after all. The only thing she could do from here on was prove herself.

With her record company, they had her sign a new contract stating that if she did one more thing to sully their name, they would fire her. She signed it after pouring over it with Petra, and she was at least glad that she was getting a chance. 

After that, Historia was hard at work. The partying, the depression, it was all behind her. With Petra’s expert help, Historia managed to get some work in. She had enough money to support herself until her old age, so it wasn’t a matter of bringing in a salary, at least. But Historia didn’t know how to continue existing if not to make music. 

Months flashed by, and her partying disappeared from the media as well. It was old news. There was still the occasional interview or article trying to kick up the storm again, but people were already bored of it. Even news of her successes were sporadic. But that was fine, because Historia was building herself back up. 

Petra helped her sign with a new manager, Mike Zacharius. He was a gigantic man, but he knew the industry well. He really helped Historia to re-brand herself, to try new things and create  _ better _ . He spent the next year with her, but people were still mostly not caring about her.

An accident had Mike retiring, much to Historia’s horror. It was difficult for her, still, to find someone who was willing to work with her. It was as if everyone thought she was stained, or something. Like if they touched her, she would ruin them too. 

Before she could flounder around, Mike gave her the good news.

“I have a friend who wants to work with you,” he said. He was in a hospital bed, both legs in casts. It was so strange to see such a big man look so little in that bed. 

“You do?”

His moustache wiggled as he studied her. “Yeah,” he finally said. “She’s always been a fan. Very young for her position, but I think that might help. She’ll contact you to discuss your contract. You’re free to reject her, of course. I recommended you.”

Historia’s eyes filled with tears. She took Mike’s big hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” she told him. “For taking a chance on me.”

Mike was rarely very emotive, but this once he actually smiled. “It was a pleasure working with you, Historia. I wish you the best of luck with your future endeavours.” He gave her hand a squeeze. “Just remember, no—”

“Parties, got it,” she finished, rolling her eyes. It had become like a joke between them, one that made Historia laugh now, instead of get flustered and embarrassed.

Historia received a call later that day while she was doing her run on her treadmill. She turned her music down and let the call come through her speakers. If they had this number, it was important.

“Historia Reiss,” she answered between huffs.

There was silence for a moment, and then, “uh, hi! My name is Nanaba Reber. I don’t know if Mike told you about me yet?”

Historia slapped her treadmill off and stood for a second to gather her breath. “Yes!” she gasped out. Her heart was suddenly racing. “He did tell me you’d contact me.”

“Great! Is there somewhere we could meet up to chat? I’d much rather do it in person.”

Historia went over to her towel and dabbed at her sweaty neck. “Yeah, of course. Do you have anywhere in mind?”

“There’s a place I can get reservations for us. It’s private, and the owners are on payroll so no paparazzi will find us.”

“Perfect. Text me the location and I’ll be there.”

* * *

It turned out to be a really fancy placed called  _ Paradis _ , and it was really private. Historia parked in the back and was led through a carpeted hallway into the main reception area, but swept right by to a private booth. The booths were scattered around, with large amounts of space between them that afforded maximum privacy. Clearly famous, powerful people came here often.

Nanaba noticed her approach and stood from her seat with a nervous smile. Historia’s initial reaction was wide-eyed surprise, then a deep swallow, then to stamp down on these feelings of attraction the moment they popped up. It was really difficult, when Nanaba held her hand out—such long fingers—and her blue eyes crinkled at the corners when she smiled.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms Reiss.”

Historia shakingly took her hand. “Just Historia, please.”

Nanaba nodded and they took a seat across from each other. They ordered some wine and starters, and then Nanaba slid a paper across the table.

“I did a draft with Mike, if you would like to review it. I... am really excited to work with you, if you’d have me.”

Historia took the paper and skimmed over it. Seemed like a regular contract. “He mentioned you’re a fan.”

Historia was delighted to see Nanaba flush at her words. “Maybe a little bit.”

Historia laughed. “It’s a nice change of pace, someone wanting to work with me for a change.”

Nanaba caught her meaning immediately and her expression turned severe. “Historia, I followed all those headlines and, it’s awful what happened to you. You’ve been such an inspiration to me, and to see the media try to tear you down. It was horrible.”

“I deserved it a little,” she supplied flippantly. She didn’t want to analyse the skip in her chest when Nanaba vehemently disagreed. 

They changed topics after that, Nanaba telling her about her own career, how she had been really lucky to grab the position of manager and then even luckier to work with a really famous singer. After that, it was easy for her to get clients when she needed, and now easier for her to just request them, like with Historia. 

Before they knew it, their food and wine was finished and they were just sharing personal stories. Historia knew that this wasn’t the smartest thing to do—Nanaba would be her manager. They were very close in age, Historia now turning 23, Nanaba 25, but still. They were already crossing lines here. She didn’t want a repeat of things, and now that she was slightly older, she could recognize that being in a relationship with someone who had power over her was a very  _ yikes _ thing to do.

No matter how cute Nanaba was, how pretty her eyes or defined her jawline, they were business partners only. Nanaba would help manager her career, not her heart. 

As time went on of them working together, it become increasingly difficult to keep telling herself that.

* * *

At the start of her career with Mike, Historia had really struggled to get back to the same head-space she used to be in. When she had been with her ex, her entire career had been built on the foundation of singing about love. Since she had been a child, Historia was in love with love. She adored the idea of it, the passion and glamour of it. After her own relationship crashed so terribly, her understanding of love had shifted monumentally. 

She tried, at first, to continue writing her usual love songs. To sing about the feelings, the yearning and the desire. But she was out of motivation. Love no longer inspired that burn in her gut, and it was only Mike’s experience and advise that helped her to somewhat get on her feet. But still, her music was average. The most exciting deal she’d snagged was creating a song for a Youtube ad. 

With Nanaba, it slowly started to shift again. Historia wasn’t really certain what it was, at first, about Nanaba that brought something out in her. They were perfect partners. Being closer in age bridged a lot of gaps for them, and Nanaba was also just such a wonderful person and her enthusiasm kept Historia in such a positive place. 

Slowly, surely, she was getting back to that. To singing about whimsy, love. There was no doubt that her songs had evolved as had her understanding. Whereas before, her songs have been profoundly one dimensional. She was singing about her  _ ideals _ of love, not actual love. Now, she was. 

People were eating it up. With Nanaba at the helm, Historia was gaining popularity again. She was back on people’s minds, and for good reasons this time. Many headlines were flattering, and it really felt like for once, people had forgotten the awful two weeks in her past. She was allowed to move on.

But  _ oh _ , it was difficult, sometimes. Historia was fully over her cheating ex. She was pleased to hear her ex had been run out of business after the whole scandal, when media had run with the whole abuse victim line. She had been too much of a scandal, and had left the industry altogether. Historia hoped the incident haunted her for the rest of her life.

But, the difficulty came with Nanaba. She was sweet, and charming, and they got along frighteningly well. Too well, actually. Historia recognized where her feelings were going, and it terrified her. She didn’t want this to turn into something else. She didn’t want to ruin this easy thing between them. But Nanaba was so attentive to her needs, and over their years working together, she knew Historia so well that she wouldn’t even need to say anything and there would be a black coffee by her desk on bad days, a sugary donut on the good. Nanaba would know if she needed help with a song, or if she was deliberating a specific pitch. 

Nanaba’s advise was always sound, and usually the exact thing that Historia needed to push past whatever was keeping her stuck. The more she grew to know Nanaba, the harder she fell, and it was growing increasingly difficult to maintain that distance that she tried for at the beginning of their professional relationship. They had started as friends, and that had been the mistake. 

Historia attended one of the Sina Award ceremonies in support of her friends in Paper Titans. They were up for best queer band  _ and  _ best single, and they were incredibly excited. The overall online consensus was that they damn well deserved it, and Historia agreed. 

She had no date, of course, but she thought last minute to ask Nanaba to attend with her. There was no real intent behind it, really. She just didn’t want to be alone during the whole thing, and Nanaba was such good company. 

“Are you sure?” Nanaba asked, almost unsure.

Historia pouted. “If you don’t want you, you don’t have to. I’ll just go alone.”

“No, no! I’ll go. I just... I need a suit. This is a little last minute.”

“I’m sorry, you really don’t have to.”

Nanaba flashed her that dimpled smile that never failed to make Historia’s breath stutter. “No need to worry, I’ll get it sorted.”

When Historia stepped out of the limousine, the cameras immediately started flashing. She hated this part, the red carpet. When Nanaba climbed out behind her, the flashes seemed to somehow grow in intensity. Nanaba’s hand pressed to her lower back, and she looked a little nervous. Historia wanted to take her hand, but there were too many eyes on them. This might have already been a mistake.

“Nervous?” she asked.

Nanaba visibly gulped. “Nervous? What makes you think that?”

They started down the carpet, and Historia let out a laugh. Reporters and fans started screaming, but she ignored them. She stood for the mandatory pictures, then led Nanaba into the theatre and to their assigned seats. Nanaba had gone pale in front of all the attention, but once they’d sat down and nursed glasses of wine, her colour returned. 

As much as Historia tried, she could not focus on the actual ceremony. She only tore her eyes from Nanaba’s face when she heard Paper Titans, and then she was out of her seat and clapping wildly as her friends all clambered onto the stage, their smiles broad, outfits gleaming. They accepted their award and Mikasa gave a beautiful speech. 

She met with them at the after party, and they all huddled into a hug, squealing—except Annie, she didn’t squeal. They chattered for a while, and then Sasha dragged her aside and tipped her head in Nanaba’s direction. She was at the snack table, putting different assortments onto her plate. From the selection, Historia knew half was for her. 

“So, was it really a good idea to bring your hot manager as your date?”

Historia’s cheeks warmed. “Not as—I mean, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just, didn’t want to come here alone.”

Sasha lifted a brow. “And that has nothing to do with you having the hots for your manager?”

There was that little tone of accusation, but Historia gave her a serious expression. Sasha blinked at her, clearly surprised.

“There is nothing going on between me and Nanaba,” she told her firmly. “No matter what either of us want. We have a business relationship, and that’s that.”

Sasha nodded at her. “Well, actually, you should tell the media that.” She pulled her phone out to show what she meant. Historia’s heart plummeted.

There were numerous articles going crazy with the pictures of them together on the red carpet. Some articles were wholly incorrect, even going so far as to question who the heck the ‘tall hottie’ was beside her. Some did their research and labelled her as Historia’s shiny new manager, and  _ those _ headlines were insulting.

The most popular shot was of that short second Nanaba had pressed a hand to her lower back. That had been a mistake. Bringing Nanaba had been a mistake. There was no going back from this.

Later, when Nanaba inevitably found out, she was distraught.

“I didn’t mean anything by it—” she rushed to say, her pale cheeks flushed. Historia’s heart clenched tightly. 

“I know,” she sighed. “This is my fault, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault!”

“I invited you. I should have known, especially considering who you are.” 

She suddenly felt the intense, urgent need to escape and grab a drink. She hadn’t felt that impulse in years, and the return of it was saddening. She didn’t give in to it, no matter how much her chest was hurting.

“Well, I don’t want you to think that I think of you that way. Not that you aren’t beautiful, I just... I mean...” She stopped talking, her face red.

Of course Nanaba would be disgusted by the thought. This could tank her career, even though it wasn’t true. She wouldn’t want to be associated with Historia, not with her sullen reputation. All it had taken was one tiny mistake for those old articles to come rushing up at her.

For days after the ceremony, the paparazzi stalked her home, her work, and even her when she was on the streets. Nanaba received the same treatment, and she seemed very frazzled by it. Historia eventually released a statement that she was not in a relationship with her manager, but no one seemed to believe her.

They had her pull a stunt, where she met in secret with an actress they hired. This caused a new flurry of rumours, but at least the scent was off Nanaba. Historia then made a new statement, that her relationship would remain private and she would give no details on it.

After a little while, the fire died down, but things changed between them after that. 

Historia noticed how careful they were both being not to touch each other. Days where they would spend extra time together, getting lunch or dinner while Historia agonized over her music, vanished. Things became so stilted and awkward that Historia really thought that Nanaba was so averse to the idea of anything romantic between them, that she would quit. 

Thankfully, over more time, they returned to a semi-normal. There were still clear boundaries between them, but no longer the giant chasm. 

Historia started creating songs about actual yearning, about star-crossed love and tragic love. The deeper her feelings for Nanaba ran, the more her despair climbed. Her only solace was her music. 

She snagged new deals for big projects, and then her new album went platinum. She received nearly the most streams online of her album than any singer in years. Of course, they were going to celebrate.

Nanaba organized a gigantic celebration party, renting the grand Sina hall and hiring the best catering service in all of the country. People were falling over themselves to make it a success, but none quite so much as Nanaba. 

They didn’t invite that many people, just those who helped in getting Historia back to where she should be, and then close friends of course. Paparazzi were desperate to sneak in, but they had a strict no media policy. They didn’t want anything leaking, and the guest list was so small that if someone did sneak a video or picture, they would be able to figure out who. 

The celebration was winding down around midnight, and though Historia was buzzing with happiness, she was still stuck on one single thing: Nanaba. She watched her as she hurried back and forth, ordering people around, placing and taking calls. She admired the fitted suit and her neatly combed hair. She loved the sound of her voice as she gently berated the wait staff, and her enthusiasm when she directed new guests. Nanaba didn’t need to do all of this. They could have handed it off to one of the PA’s, but she’d said she wanted to personally oversee this party.

Historia could sense that there was a reason for that, and that there was something Nanaba wanted to tell her. She was sick with worry over it, which made it difficult for her to relax and just have fun. She decided to grab a weak drink and disappear to a corner somewhere, sitting on her own. The music wasn’t too loud, but people were dancing wildly, bodies gyrating. She noticed with a blink of surprise that Mikasa was giving both Annie  _ and _ Sasha very heated looks, and then she dragged both of them from the hall.

Historia would need to question them later. For now—

“Historia?”

Her heart startled in her chest, but Historia kept her face neutral. “Nanaba, hey.”

She sat down beside her. She had rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and loosened her tie. Her hair looked tousled, but she was still achingly beautiful. Historia wished she could lean in, trace the line of Nanaba’s defined jaw with her lips. Slip her fingers between the buttons of her shirt, caress her soft skin. She could feel herself growing aroused, so she crossed her legs and scooted closer to the table just in case.

“Are you having fun?”

Historia regarded the dwindling party around them. “You planned this so well, thank you Nanaba.”

“It was my pleasure. I want you to have the best time. I...” She swallowed and glanced away. Historia stared at her throat, at the dip of her nose, the lines of her lips. Her chest started to clench. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

This was it, she thought. Nanaba was going to do it. 

“What is it?” she asked.

Nanaba lifted her face, met her nervous gaze. There was something deep swirling in those blue eyes. Historia so badly wanted to lean in and kiss her, but she didn’t. She was sure her heart was going to be broken. 

“I’m leaving,” Nanaba croaked out. Her brows connected. Historia’s breath stopped. “I’m already in discussion for a different contract, not with you. I—I didn’t want to tell you here, but I’m being pressured to give them an answer. I also just, I mean, now is such a bad time I—”

Historia lifted her hand, silencing Nanaba’s babble. “It’s okay, I get it.” Her tone was flat, cold. She could see the alarm on Nanaba’s face. “Thank you for telling me.” She made to get up, to be anywhere but  _ here  _ but Nanaba suddenly grabbed her wrist and tugged her close.

Historia stumbled into Nanaba’s arms, blushing. They were in a secluded corner, at least, so one would notice them.

“What are you doing?” Historia whispered, frightened to let herself hope.

“I’m quitting as your manager, because I’m in love with you,” Nanaba answered. She still seemed very nervous, but resolute. “I should have quit the moment I realized.”

Historia’s mouth went dry. “You... what?”

“You heard me. I’m in love with you, Historia. Stupidly, deeply in love with you. I have been for years. I was so scared... I mean, I know what happened with your previous manager. I didn’t... I’d never take advantage of you like that. I could never try to pursue you while working for you. So, I quit. As of tomorrow, I am no longer your manager.”

Historia’s eyes were round with shock, and then the tears started. Nanaba immediately reached out to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing the tears away. Her gaze was tender, soft.

“Are you okay?”

Historia didn’t know how to articulate what she was feeling. For years she beat herself up for loving Nanaba. She always felt so guilty, like she was sullying Nanaba’s honour by having these desires. It wasn’t just that she loved her, but she  _ wanted _ her, too. She spent many nights alone in her bed, furiously masturbating to the sparse fantasies about Nanaba that she allowed herself to have. 

So, instead of speaking, of mentioning all of her reasons, she surged forward. The moment their lips connected, they both released a soft moan. Nanaba’s mouth was warm, and she tasted like whiskey. Historia’s heart was thudding far too quickly in her chest, especially when hands clutched at her hips, drawing her near. 

Historia could feel herself beginning to harden. With how close they were pressed together, Nanaba could feel it. She pulled away, panting harshly, her eyes shining.

“Would you like to come to my place?”

Historia stared at her. She gave a quick nod, and then they were leaving together, fingers linked. She was barely aware of flashes going off across the street when they hopped into their limo, and then they were kissing again, fingers tangled in hair, breaths turned to gasps.

Nothing else in the world mattered but them and this fledgling thing between them. To know her feelings were returned, that Nanaba respected her so deeply that she would rather quit than make advances as her manager, just made Historia fall even harder. It simply wasn’t possible for these feelings to deepen, and yet they continued to. 

They stumbled into Nanaba’s apartment, ripping at their clothes, tongues sliding together. Before they even made it to the bedroom, they were bare, and then they were side by side, Nanaba’s thigh between Historia’s leg. They kissed softly, less urgently, but still Historia felt a current of arousal pulsing through her. It almost ached, where her cock pressed to Nanaba’s thigh. She could feel how wet Nanaba was with her own thigh pressed to her, and then she reached down to replace it with her fingers. Nanaba groaned deeply when she swept through her slickness, and Historia pulled away from her kiss to regard her.

“Is this okay?”

Nanaba gave her a gentle look. “More than okay. I love you.”

Historia’s smile almost hurt her cheeks. “I love you too.”

Nanaba blinked. “You do?”

“Was that not obvious?”

“I just... thought you were maybe a little angry and wanted to just, fall into bed.”

Historia rolled her eyes. “No, I feel the same way. I have since the day we met.” 

They spoke no more. Historia explored the wet planes of Nanaba’s skin, trailing absent circles around her exposed, engorged clit. She let out cute little moans any time Historia touched her clit, and then she started rubbing in firm motions that she seemed to like the most. 

Nanaba surprised her by reaching out and closing warn, quivering fingers around her cock. She was slick enough that she could gently start stroking her. It was a little difficult at first. Whenever the pleasure peaked, Historia’s fingers faltered. But they both grew frantic, and then Nanaba came with a soft cry. Her hand around Historia froze as she squeezed softly and then relaxed. Historia caressed Nanaba’s jawline with her lips, softly helping her down from the high.

“You didn’t come,” Nanaba whined softly, eyes fluttering open.

Historia kissed her lips. “Would have made a mess.”

Nanaba bit down on her lower lip, then she started sliding down Historia’s body, settled between her legs. She glanced up, blue eyes twinkling with delight. Historia flushed.

“Make a mess in my mouth, then,” she purred.

Historia didn’t even have time to react to that, Nanaba bent forward and drew the head between her legs. She wasted no time drawing as much of Historia into her mouth as she could manage, and it was only Nanaba’s hand pressed firmly to her pelvis that kept her from arcing off the bed. Nanaba’s mouth was incredibly warm and she was focused and attentive. When she made a particular swipe with her tongue as her head bobbed downwards, she must have taken note how Historia’s moans turned high-pitched. She repeated the same motion. Historia had no choice but to jerk her hips, her cock thrusting into the wet seal of Nanaba’s lips. 

When Historia came, her entire body writhed and she shouted up at the ceiling. Her fingers curled into the sheets, helplessly tugging, and then Nanaba released her, licking her lips happily. She crawled upwards, peppering kisses against Historia’s front until they could kiss again. Historia groaned deeply when she tasted herself. 

“Come on,” she goaded, hands going around to Nanaba’s ass and giving her cheeks a squeeze. “Get up here.”

Nanaba stared at her in question for a moment, then she must have realized what Historia meant. Her smile turned shy, but she got up on her knees and crawled up the bed until she was above Historia’s mouth.

“Ever done this before?”

Nanaba shook her head. “No, but I trust you.”

Historia’s heart skipped. She wrapped her arms around Nanaba’s thighs, then helped to ease her down until she could run her tongue through her slick folds. The taste of Nanaba hit her like a hammer and waves of arousal swept through her once more. If she had been softening before, then she was rock-hard again. 

Historia took her time tasting Nanaba, slipping her tongue between her labia, diving to her entrance to slide inside, only to exit and tease around her clit. Nanaba was straining above her, clearly trying to hold off her weight and finding it difficult under the onslaught of pleasure. It pleased Historia to know she was having this extent, so she decided to give in.

She used two fingers and sank inside of her, then sealed her lips around Nanaba’s clit and sucked hard. It didn’t take much of her gently thrusting inside and suckling on her for Nanaba to moan loudly and then fall forward, shaking. Historia felt the contractions around her fingers, and then pulled them out and licked them clean. She pressed one last kiss to Nanaba’s lips, then sighed when she crawled back down.

Historia felt limp, spent. Her entire body tingled with euphoria and her eyelids grew heavy, but then Nanaba sat up on her lap, and the brush of her warm wetness against Historia’s cock made her eyes widen. Suddenly she was wide awake again. 

“Can I ride you?” Nanaba asked her, a brow quirked in question, as if the answer could possibly be anything other than yes. 

Historia gave a jerky nod, and then she watched, transfixed, as Nanaba guided her close, nudging the head against her soaked entrance. She pressed down, her blue eyes sliding shut, and all Historia could do was choke on a breath and clutch at Nanaba’s thighs, keep herself grounded as she was engulfed. The moment the head popped in, the rest went easily and then Nanaba was down to the hilt, her inner muscles clenching and unclenching as she adjusted to the stretch. 

Historia  _ almost _ came just from that. It had been so long for her, and Nanaba looked so tantalizingly beautiful, stretched around her like that. Historia could see the small bud of her clit, swollen and red. 

Nanaba started riding her, lifting her hips and then dropping back down. She went slowly, enough that Historia had the strength to keep her eyes open and to watch. She loved the way Nanaba’s body tensed, showing her defined muscles. How her breasts bounced, her nipples pink and hardened to points. Desperate, she reached out and found Nanaba’s hand, intertwining their fingers. 

Nanaba kept up the slow, brutal pace. Her face was creased in concern. Historia didn’t want to come quite yet, so she focused instead on the sight of Nanaba, not on the warm friction against her cock, the gentle tug of inner muscles. This proved nearly impossible, and Historia started growing desperate. 

“Nanaba,” she gasped out. The room suddenly felt too hot, humid.

“Mm?” she responded, not opening her eyes.

Historia stared at her face, then she flipped them over. Nanaba let out a soft noise of surprise, her eyes widening. Historia smirked at her. “You were driving me crazy,” she husked.

Nanaba opened her mouth, but then Historia drew her hips back and slammed in hard. Nanaba’s soft pace earlier had been sweet, and oh so good, but Historia needed it rough. Nanaba’s hands came around to her back, nails scraping downwards as she moaned up into the air. Historia felt confident that she liked this, and then she focused on her thrusts. Every moan that Nanaba released hit Historia right in the heart, and she could feel her own orgasm rushing dangerously close. 

Nanaba started clenching hard around her, body twisting, hips jerking. “Historia,” she gasped aloud, brows connect. “I’m... close... I—”

Historia pressed a kiss to her throat, then felt the orgasm roll right through her. Nanaba went rigid, legs and arms clutching tightly at Historia’s body. There was almost no room left for her to thrust, but luckily she didn’t need to. The powerful tug of her inner muscles pushed Historia off the edge, and then she was coming. Historia pulled Nanaba’s face down and captured her lips. They shook together, clutching onto each other desperately. Her orgasm went on longer than expected, and when it ended and she floated back down, she collapsed against Nanaba’s strong, firm body, releasing her lips with a soft gasp. Nanaba’s thighs fell away from her hips, but the arms around her back remained.

Nanaba pressed a kiss to her temple. She was so gentle, so kind. 

“You good?” Nanaba asked her softly, voice hoarse.

Historia had softened, but she was still inside of her. She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to move. Nanaba started tracing patterns against her back, and the heaviness of her eyes increased.

“Mm,” Historia finally mumbled, her chest warming. “I’m perfect.”

Historia felt the curve of Nanaba’s smile against her brow. 


End file.
